Reunion
by Feather and Green Ink
Summary: My take on how Eragon and Arya were reunited after reestablishing peace in the world. Post-Inheritance
1. Chapter 1

**So I wrote this because I couldn't find a reunion scene that I was totally satisfied with and I had this idea kicking around in my head. I was thinking that this would be a few centuries later because I couldn't see Arya abdicating the throne before the world was perfectly in balance and cool again, what with her yawë, and that could take a while. So roughly 500 years I think but I doubt that after so long they would be keep perfect track anymore.**

**Disclaimer: the usual stuff...**

* * *

><p>The wind whistled through the treetops. Though only a little breeze graced those upon the ground, the towering pines swayed lightly, feeling the stronger currents farther above. I lone figure wondered through the forest following no particular path. Her thoughts overwhelmed any other distractions coming from her surroundings. Her face was neutral, not stressed by the frown that so often appeared, nor forcefully blank. Just set in the peaceful expression of one deeply immersed in their serine thoughts.<p>

This meandering walk through the forest was not abnormal, as the habit had grown to an almost constant action over the years. At times she would pause and gaze almost wistfully in some direction or another. Though the route was each time unique, the destination was almost always the same. While the location had never been expressly forbidden to others, they respected her and never approached her there if possible.

The pool rippled as a fleet of miniature golden boats drifted toward her. She knew each boat and remembered perfectly each note they had contained. A few were a bit wonky and sailed slower then their fellows but she cherished those all the more for their imperfection. Except for the small ledge where she now knelt, the edge of the pool was ringed with hundreds of golden lilies swaying in the light breeze.

One boat made of grass was floating through the air making seemingly random dips and turns as in moved in her direction. She held out her hand and the boat gently settled on it. Carefully cradling it, she began to sing. First she extracted the note within without doing any damage. Then she gilded the boat as she had all the others before singing a last line that would allow it to sail forevermore with its fellows in the pond.

Along with the note was the final fragment of a faírth that had been waiting to be pieced together. The note was not one about news or events of late, those were sent with the egg couriers. This was a new poem extoling the beauty and pain of life. After reading it, she clutched the paper to her chest careful to not allow a single tear that ran down her face touch it. She cried not for grief, but for the happiness expressed, glad that it mirrored her own.

She would have lingered by the pool for far longer had it not been for the faírth waiting to be completed. She had yet to see what was on the soon to be whole again slab of slate. He had placed a spell to keep it blank until the final piece was placed. She took a deep breath and began to sing the slab into a whole again. As soon as she was finished, the color bloomed across the slate forming four images that intertwined smoothly with each other.

The first image was of her crossing blades with a still human boy for the first time in Farthen Dur. The view showed both of them in profile and was tinged blue. She recognized the tint and realized that the image itself must have come from a watching dragon. The second was of her, carefree in the forests of Ellesmera singing to a bird that had alighted on her outstretched hand. She understood then, he had chosen the images that best represented her from the knowledge of her true name. The third image solidified her theory, it was immediately after the battle in Ilirea, however, it was not her standing victorious but gently cradling Fírnen's egg. She could see in in each image his love for every part of her.

The final image was one he had never seen in person. It was her kneeling on the edge of the pool holding a hand out to the fleet of small golden boats. The fleet was much smaller as was the field of golden liovissas. She recognized the scene as just before the first boat with a piece of the fairth arrived. It was lacking the absolute clarity of the other images, and she guessed that he had scryed her while she was there. Forcing herself to break her gaze away, she read the poem once more.

Once again she was struck by a moment of clarity riddled with an undercurrent of deep-seated longing. Reaching for Fírnen, she presented him with the image of the faírth. _Its time_. She now knew with absolute certainty she was right. The great dragon felt her conviction and roared in joy, springing into the air and racing in her direction.

* * *

><p>The grass boat fluttered its sails as it settled on his hand. This one was different form the others. The woven grass was still green and it was imbued with more magic. He sang the note out it before he whispered a phrase to both guild it and let it fly around his house with the flock of other boats. The note contained only a single line: <em>The time has come.<em> Though he understood the meaning instantly he was wary to believe it whole heartedly. Calling out to his dragon he read her the note and sent herhis feelings of confusion laced with hope. She interrupted his thought however with a wave of excitement.

_Look up little one. _He followed her instructions gazing into the perfectly blue sky. Squinting past the bright rays of light he could just see a dot circling the sky far above. Centuries of loneliness made him doubt his first instincts. Borrowing Saphira's sharper eyes his heart leapt as he recognized the emerald green dragon.

_Saphira!_ He needed no other words. She bent down as he sprang onto her back before driving upwards as fast has her wings would allow. Her joyful roar was answered from above as Fírnen drove down to meet her. After sending a quick thought to Murtagh so he and the other riders were not alarmed by the sudden presence of a rather large dragon, he threw his consciousness as far as it would reach, searching for the very familiar but long unfelt mind. She did the same and they embraced mentally, holding nothing back from each other. The joy emanating from both of them would have brought and army to its knees weeping happy tears, but they basked in it savoring every possible moment.

The dragons flew in tight circles, nose to tail, enveloping each other's minds as well. Despite Saphira's long ago statement that dragons didn't mate for life, neither had taken another mate in the intervening time. The riders locked eyes and though no coherent thoughts past between them they understood every bit of the other. Though both true names had changed, they did not unsettle the other as the differences were small. Eragon had added his love of teaching and patience, as well as a growing love for her. Arya's added only the realization of her dependence on him for true happiness.

Remaining connected this way until the dragons drifted to the ground they alighted from their respective partners and, never breaking eye contact slowly moved toward the other. During the approach, each took the time to study the changes in the other's appearance. Eragon could see now that Arya had been young when they last met. Though she had lost non of her vitality, her reserve stemmed not from a forced aloofness as it had before, but from a simple want of privacy. Though she had known that he was a man already when he left, she could see the maturity and wisdom he now exuded.

When they stood just a few feet apart, Eragon began to twist his hand over his sternum. He was interrupted by Arya throwing her arms around his neck and embracing him. He quickly followed suit, reveling in the feel of actually holding her again and how well she fit to his body. Though both had changed it was like two pieces of a puzzle that had been lost were finally being put back together.

After an immeasurable amount of time they broke apart just far enough to gaze into the others eyes again. Though their minds were still intertwined Eragon spoke aloud.

"You came." He needed only that simple statement. Being ever cautious, he slowly raised a hand and placed it on her cheek savoring the warmth he felt there.

A dazzling smile lit her face, "My work there was finished. My people no longer needed me to lead them and you need me here. So I came, wiol ono un wiol onr un iet ilian."

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you liked it. Remember, reviews make authors feel loved.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey everyone, I had very much intended this to be a one-shot, but due to popular demand by a few reviewers I decided to continue. As you may notice there isn't really a plot behind this and if people are dying for more vaguely connected scenes (probably less so than these two are) please let me know. I hope my writing stands up to expectations and I haven't made the characters OOC. Now, on with the actually story…**

**Disclaimer: the usual stuff…**

The reflection in the mirror gazed back at her. She stared unmoving, looking at her face in the early morning light from the side. The changes she saw from when she last gazed at herself in the mirror in Ellesmera would have been virtually unnoticeable to any other, but they were monumental to her. Already the weariness that had been a constant for centuries was lifted. She found herself recognizing the younger freer Arya that had once danced with her fellow elves. Though she had long ago forsaken that identity, parts of it were found in the light expression on her face.

So deep was she in thought, that she didn't see or feel his approach from behind her. She was startled when warm hands settled gently on her shoulders. She leaned back, settling her weight on him as his arms wrapped around her. Looking over her shoulder he too gazed at the reflection in the mirror. He was far from concerned by what he saw and let a smile grace his lips.

"Do you know the irony of you choosing this particular mirror?" he spoke softly, barely above a whisper, not wanting to disturb the peaceful moment. She quirked an eyebrow at his question, silently willing him to continue. He could not help but acquiesce.

"Out of all the mirrors in the house, or even solely in this room you chose this one." She glanced at the few other mirrors dotting the same wall. All of them were much smaller with far less ornate frames or were completely frameless.

"I assumed that this was the one that you used for personal use, not scrying, as it is centrally located."

"That one is above the sink in the washroom, this is the mirror that is tied to yours in Ellesmera." He gave a small chuckle and rested his chin on the top of her head.

"Not mine any more, the knotted throne, and the mirror, now belong to Vanir."

"I am happy for Vanir, however I will always think of this mirror by the images of you it showed me." She turned in his arms, putting her back to the pane of glass they had been discussing. Content to just be held she didn't speak. After an immeasurable amount of time they separated briefly to ready themselves for the day. Hand in hand they walked down the winding path that led from Eragon's house on the cliff, down to the small city below.

"I could not help but notice that your yawë is gone…" he let the sentence hang, neither a statement nor a question.

"As I said before, I was no longer needed. Though this rarely happens, mine faded away on its own."

"Is that how you knew it was time to come?"

"Both yes and no, it had been fading for quite some time and I knew the moment was nearing, but it was not until I saw your fairth that I knew for certain. I dearly wish it did not have to be left behind in Ellesmera."

"That is of no consequence, I have another of the same here with me." Her brilliant smile in response brought warmth to Eragon's chest. He grinned back revealing in the knowledge that she was letting her guard drop and being far more open with him than during the war. They gradually slowed their pace as they approached the city, wanting to have as much time together as possible before being bombarded by the many introductions.

Though Arya had met all the riders as they passed through Ellesmera on the way to complete their training with Eragon, she had yet to see many of them as fully-fledged dragon riders awaiting their time to return to Alagaësia.

As they entered the city, she was amazed by the difference in appearance displayed by the riders. Though elves were immortal, they still showed their age. Eragon Murtagh and herself were by far the eldest and yet they looked hardly a day older than they had during the war. The city seemed to be inhabited solely by the youth of the world.

The most senior riders were the first to greet her. After the intervening centuries since they had returned to assist Eragon, even the urgals and the dwarves features had begun to shift to that of an elf. It was a strange sight to see the slanted eyes and pointed ears that distinguished her race marking the features of the urgal. It had a softening effect that sharply contradicted the horns protruding from her forehead. Though she was not kull she stood well over Arya's head, opposite of the dwarf who was well below Arya's height.

After a brief conversation with the instructors, she exchanged greetings with the students. Finally free from the throng of people that had gathered, she and Eragon began to make their way back up to the grand house over looking the city. Without having to ask, Arya knew it was that size to accommodate Saphira and Fírnen as they grew to the massive bulk that had once characterized Gleadr. She was gratified to know that he had known that one day she would come, long before she had known herself.

Upon thinking of her partner of heart and mind, she reached out for his consciousness feeling suddenly the loneliness that accompanied separation. Through the connection with Eragon that had not been dropped since she arrived, she felt caution and a warning as she reached for Fírnen. As soon as she touched his mind she immediately regretted the action. She struggled to control herself before she tackled Eragon in the middle of the road.

The problem was not what Fírnen and Saphira were doing, it was that Fírnen almost considered a rider and dragon the same entity and as such his feelings for Saphira very nearly carried over to Eragon and exponentially increased her own emotions. After a moment she opened her eyes only to find Eragon standing in front of her chuckling to himself quietly. She leveled a glare at him while trying to ignore his proximity.

"Saphira was kind enough to warn me." She could hear his voice quivering with laughter.

Gritting her teeth, she grabbed his arm and gave him a light shove up the road. His laughter increased as he stumbled just a bit more than any elf ever would. Keeping her voice as calm as possible she responded, "Come, we have much to talk about, nor can we neglect your students forever." With that she gracefully marched away leaving Eragon to follow.

**As always a reminder that reviews make authors feel loved. **


End file.
